One Last Adventure

Hey guys, the following is a Fan Fiction that I wrote a while ago for the Doctor Who fandom. The original story can be found on my FanFic site;
Enjoy 🙂 

I lay on my back with my eyes closed, breathing in the smell of disinfectant, listening to the soft beeping of the machines, feeling the weight of the thick blankets on my weak chest. I opened my eyes to the white, moonlit hospital ward that I now called home. My eyes flicked down to the drip in my arm, to the machine monitoring my heartbeat, to the tube in my nose. Once again I was filled with an emptiness that only comes with someone who has lost all hope in living. I knew I didn’t have much longer; a couple of hours, a day or two at the most. The cancer was spreading across both lungs now, constricting my chest and making each breath burn like the inferno of hell itself. I knew I was going to die. I had been denying and ignoring that fact until now, but I could no longer turn a blind eye to my fate and I knew I was going to die. With a pace that was almost excruciatingly slow, I turned my head to face the single, solitary window of my private ward and gazed through the blinds at the full moon. The open window welcomed a light breeze which rustled the blinds, causing their shadows to dance across my face. The moon looked beautiful tonight. My heart wrenched at the thought that this may be the last time I ever saw the moon. A single tear swelled at the corner of my eye and slid down my pale cheek. No fifteen-year-old should ever have to live with the thought that they might never see the moon again. Or the sun. Or the world. I cringed as another flash of burning pain seared across my chest. I let out a choked gasp as it grasped my heart like a vice and squeezed. I writhed and squirmed under the sheets and tried not to cry. After it had disappeared I lay still, my breathing shallow, a cold sweat covering my forehead. These flashes of pain were so normal for me now. They would come to me every hour or so, taunting me, playing with me. I hated them. I wanted them to end. I didn’t want to feel any more pain. Even though I didn’t really believe, I prayed to God that it would all end soon yet, there was so much left I wanted to do, to see, to experience. There were places I’d read about in my many books that I wanted to visit, and there were so many people that I wanted to meet. I didn’t want to go. Oh please make the pain stop. Please…

I must have fallen asleep, for I was awoken by a strange noise. It sounded far away at first, but it was gradually getting closer; a whooshing, warped, scraping noise. Really I couldn’t describe it; I had never heard a noise like it before. I slowly raised my head off my pillows and peered into the dim light of the ward. What I saw before my eyes nearly took my breath away; there was something materializing at the foot of my bed. From what I could make out, it was a large, bulky object that closely resembled a box and was topped with a little white light. Slowly, very slowly, it pulsated and with each whooshing noise, it became more solid, more real. I reached under my sheets and pinched my arm, making sure that I wasn’t dreaming. This was impossible! I thought that there must have been something wrong with my drip and that I was beginning to hallucinate. Maybe this was the end; maybe this is what it’s like to die. I had never read about near-death experiences including seeing a materializing box. Suddenly it was solid, its little white light illuminating the room with a strange glow. From what I could make out, the box was a rich blue in colour and was equipped with double doors, rectangular window panes, a notice its right door, and a St John’s Ambulance seal on the other. Above the illuminated window panes was a sign depicting the words “Police Box”. I was filled with wonder, curiosity, and unease at its presence; the box had a slightly intimidating air about it. For a few minutes it simply sat there, with no indication of there being anything living inside of it. Eventually however, I heard the clicking noise of a door handle unlatching and slowly, the door began to open. My bed was flooded in light as the silhouette of a man stepped out of the box and into my ward. He seemed to be muttering to himself, but I could only make out a few words; “Happened again… really must fix her navigation… wrong year… take her back to Dorium… see if he has any spare parts…” He paused, as though he could feel someone watching him and he turned to face my bed. My heart began to beat faster. This man could be an axe murder for all I knew, but what he did next was not pull out an axe and start hacking me to pieces. Instead, he asked me what year it was. “T-t-two thousand a-and thirteen” I stammered nervously. He began muttering to himself again and when I felt brave enough, I asked the crucial question; “who are you?” He looked at me surprised, as though he had forgotten I was there, but his face broke into a warm smile. He, well, bounced to my bedside and grasped my hand in greeting, “I’m sorry, I should have introduced myself! I’m the Doctor. And who are you?” “I’m Faith,” I replied, returning his handshake with difficulty.

“This is a hospital, isn’t it? What are you doing in here, Faith?” he asked, his green eyes twinkling curiously.

“I’m a terminal patient,” I answered, “I have lung cancer and I don’t have long.”

A look of sadness passed over the Doctor’s thin features and he laid a hand on my dark curly hair. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, looking every ounce as though he meant it, “I’m so, so sorry. This must be awful for you. It isn’t fair that someone as young as you should go so soon when I have lived over 900 years.”

He said this with utter sincerity, but I couldn’t help thinking he must be joking. He didn’t look much older than thirty, and it was impossible for someone to live to 900 anyway! I decided to let it go and instead turned my attention to the Police Box.

“What’s that?” I asked, nodding my head at it.

“Oh that!” he said, turning to look at the box with an expression of what I could only call pride, “that’s the TARDIS.” When he saw my look of blank confusion, he chuckled and said, “it stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. Essentially it’s a time machine.” Just when I thought nothing could surprise me… it did. I sat there gaping at the little blue box, twinkling innocently in the corner as I struggled to comprehend what I had just heard. “But… th-that’s impossible!” I managed, turning to stare at the strange man before me. He was obviously delusional. Maybe he was an escaped patient, claiming to be a doctor that travelled through time and space. I had obviously imagined the box materializing in front of me; the noises had merely been him dragging it into my room. As if reading my thoughts of disbelief, he chuckled and said, “I know you don’t believe me, but let me show you something that may change your mind.” He held out a hand to me, his face full of kindness. Before taking it, I looked properly at his face. He was young, and thin, his cheekbones protruded from under his intelligent green eyes. He was tall and wore a tweed jacket with a red bow tie. I grasped his steady hand with one of my own shaking ones and he gently lifted me out of the bed. Dizziness overcame me and I gripped his jacket for support. He lay a reassuring hand on the small of my back as I unclipped my drip and my heart monitor. I looked up into his kind eyes. “You’ll be alright,” he said in response to my unanswered question. My legs felt like jelly; I hadn’t left my bed in weeks and I was not at all steady. The Doctor gently guided me towards the blue box and I touched its smooth, wooden surface. It felt good to touch something that wasn’t cold and metallic for once. The Doctor reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small key which he fitted into the lock on the door of the TARDIS. He turned to look at me, his youthful face filled with glee. “Are you ready?” he asked, barely able to contain his excitement. “I suppose so…” I answered, not completely reassured as to what I was going to see. He pushed open the doors and I stepped inside.

What I was greeted with was not the small, cramped interior of the police box as I had imagined. Instead, the world I entered into was something I would never have imagined in my wildest dreams. Feeling and emotion rushed into my heart, my eyes filled with barely-contained tears of amazement. My breath caught in my throat and I nearly choked. My heart beat faster, and my eyes struggled to take in the impossible sight that lay before me. This box was bigger on the inside.

In front of me was a small flight of stairs leading up to what could only be a control panel, filled with knobs, buttons, levers and wheels. In the middle of the console was a tall tower stretching to the high ceiling that contained what looked like an abstract glass sculpture. Behind and to the sides of the console were stairs leading off to other rooms or possibly corridors and curiously, beside me there stood a hatstand that looked very out of place with its almost alien surroundings. The Doctor leaped up the stairs towards the console and turned to grin smugly at me. “What do you think?” he asked. After a few seconds of my struggling to arrange my thoughts and process the scene before me, I replied, “am I dead? Is this what it’s like to die?” He laughed and took my hand, leading me up the stairs to the console.

“No, dear, you’re not dead. The TARDIS is basically another dimension. It keeps growing and changing; even I haven’t it seen it in its entirety, and I think it would take me an eternity to do so!”

I was still struggling to come to terms with the events that had happened within the last few minutes, but I decided to ask another of the billion questions that had been brewing inside me. “Why does it look like a 50s police telephone box on the outside?”

“Ah, well, the TARDIS used to be able to take on the form of an object that would help it blend in with whatever planet or time we found ourselves in; a chameleon circuit. But one day, certain events took place and the circuit broke. I’ve never been able to fix it, so it’s been stuck on the police box setting.” I nodded distractedly, my eyes still roving all over the room. “So this box can travel anywhere in time and space?” I asked. “Oh yes!” replied the Doctor, “anywhere you want to go, she’ll take you there… well, when she gets it right.”

“Weren’t you saying when you first landed that you were in the wrong year?” The Doctor nodded. “Where were you planning on going?”

“I was planning on visiting this very spot in the year 2213. There was to be the most incredible meteor shower that was going to pass this part of Scotland, and I didn’t want to miss it… I guess I must have forgotten to add an extra two into the year.”

“But you wouldn’t have missed it! You could still go and see it. You do have a time machine, after all.” The Doctor looked at me and it was as if an idea had sparked in his mind, for he stood a little straighter and asked, “would you like to come and see it too?” I stared at him open-mouthed, my heart racing with excitement. He was offering to take me to the future! I couldn’t believe it, it didn’t feel real. Even with the proof of this blue box time machine that was bigger on the inside, I still couldn’t quite believe that he could take me to see a meteor shower in the future. Without really thinking, I nodded and his kind face broke into another delighted smile. “Well, we better get going, we haven’t much time!” I was about to point out that we were in a time machine and that we had all the time in the world, but the flash of pain that rocketed through my chest again made me realise that he hadn’t been referring to the meteor shower. I slowly made my way to the comfy-looking chair that was fixed to the metal railing around the control console and sank into it with a sigh. In all the excitement, I hadn’t realised how exhausted I was. I rubbed my chest in an attempt to numb the throbbing pain that had settled there and watched as the Doctor ran around the console, flicking levers, pressing buttons, and typing on the keyboard. He looked back at me, “you ready?” he asked. I nodded and braced myself on the railing. “Geronimo!” he shouted as he pulled on a lever. The TARDIS gave an almighty lurch and the Doctor slid forward, laughing as he grasped onto the TARDIS console. I broke into a smile, my first smile in months, as I held onto the railing as tight as I could to stop from flying to the other end of the room. The Doctor looked up at the computer screen and, with great difficulty, typed something in and pressed another button. The TARDIS stopped jolting as suddenly as it had started. I was still gripping the railing with white knuckles. My hair was in my face, and I was panting as though I had just run a marathon. The Doctor hurried over to help me up. “Are you alright?” he asked, half-laughing. I looked up at him and grinned. I was exhausted and my chest hurt, but it had been the most fun I had had in a long time. He smiled in return and, taking my hand, led me to the front doors.

The Doctor opened the door and we stepped out. It was a strange sensation. I knew we were still in Scotland, but the scenery had changed.

“Are we still in the same place we left?”

“Yes. This is where the hospital used to be. It’s a national park now! Isn’t that nice?”

I smiled at his enthusiasm but my smile slid from my face. “I’ve been dead for two hundred years,” I said. The Doctor rolled his eyes. “You remind me so much of Amy. She said the exact same thing when I took her to visit the Starship UK. She complained that she’d been dead for centuries.”

I looked at him. “Who’s Amy?” For a moment, I could swear I saw a look of pain flash across his face as I said her name. She must have been someone close to him.

“Amy Pond was the girl who waited.” He said, looking away as he spoke, “I crash-landed in her backyard when she was seven and I had to leave her. I told her I’d only be gone five minutes, but the TARDIS went wibbly and I ended up being twelve years late.” I raised my eyebrows as he continued, “anyway, I came back and she joined me in my travels. Oh that Amy Pond…” a distant look entered his eyes, “such a brave girl…”

“What happened to her?” I whispered. The Doctor looked down at me, his eyes revealing the weight of his sadness. “She was taken from me. I couldn’t save her.” My heart sank and I gulped. “Were there others?” He nodded and sighed, “sometimes things happen, things that I can’t control. Not everyone makes it.” We were silent for a while, gazing up at the clear night sky above us. I had never seen so many stars in my life. Usually the lights from the city would block them out. When you see them in their clusters, the millions and millions of them, the sight is breathtaking. My thoughts turned to the impossible man next to me. It was clear that this man was not human; his technology, intellect, and age told me that much. This man who looked so young, yet was burdened with the soul of someone much older. This man who had lost so much. This lonely man wandering the stars in search of someone to share the universe with.

My thoughts were broken by the Doctor nudging my arm. “Look,” he said, pointing up at the night sky. I gazed up in time to see a single meteor whiz by. As we watched, more and more meteors flew past, dozens and dozens of them. It looked as though every star in the sky was taking flight. I half-expected them to come raining down on top of us as they shot past overhead. The Doctor drew me closer to him as we watched the shower in silence. I couldn’t help it. Tears began to stream from my eyes. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever witnessed, and it was also probably the last thing I would ever see. The Doctor sensed my sadness and squeezed my arm. “Those meteors are traveling through the Earth’s atmosphere at 130,000 miles an hour,” he said. I knew he was just telling me this to distract me, but I appreciated it anyway, “most of them are smaller than a grain of sand and will never even hit the Earth.” He spoke with such enthusiasm and obviously felt proud at being able to tell me these things. Something told me that he hadn’t been able to do that in a while. We sat on the damp grass with our backs against the TARDIS, watching the meteors fly overhead as the Doctor rattled off facts and information on different meteor showers he’d seen. I think he also mentioned something about how he’d caused one as well.

After a few hours, I began to feel tired. It had been a long night, and my condition wasn’t doing me any favors. The Doctor helped me up and half-carried me into the TARDIS, laying me down on the chair. He set the co-ordinates for the hospital and one hectic ride through time later (I still feel ridiculous saying that), we were back at the hospital. It was so odd; I looked at the clock on my bedside table and realised I had only been gone five minutes. The Doctor helped me back into my bed and re-attached the drip into my arm. He sat there for a minute, looking at me thoughtfully. I spoke first to break the silence, “thank you, Doctor.” I said, smiling sadly at him, “as this is probably my last day, I can’t imagine a better way to have spent it.”

He looked sad. “You shouldn’t think like that. This isn’t the end for you, Faith. This is only the beginning. A greater adventure lies ahead of you.”

I looked away from him as tears streamed down my face. “I’m not sure I’m ready to go yet, Doctor. I’m scared of what’s waiting for me… or what isn’t. The fact that I don’t know scares me to death.”

He stroked my hair as I tried to regain my composure, “You are right to fear it, Faith. I don’t blame you, but don’t cling to the fear of what’s to come. Instead, remember your life, all the things you achieved, all the friends you made, all the people whose lives you touched. Keep them in your memory and they will stay with you forever.”

I nodded and took a deep breath. He leaned forward and kissed me once on the cheek. He smiled as he drew back. “You were the best person you could have been, and I am so glad to have met you,” he said. I smiled as he made his way back to the TARDIS. Before he opened the door, he turned to me again. “Goodbye, Faith.” He said. “Goodbye, Doctor,” I whispered as he disappeared into the TARDIS once again.

I lie here now with my eyes closed as the sound of the TARDIS’ whooshing noises fill my ears and the last few breaths of life leave my body. I feel the cold embrace of death encompass me as visions of shooting stars pattern the insides of my eyelids.

I am at peace.



One thought on “One Last Adventure

  1. That was beautiful..
    I noticed the direct quote (or close to) that you used when The Doctor explained why the TARDIS looks the way it does; in fact I watched it only the other day. You kept the Doctors character extraordinary precise that even his smiles and sadness stayed in character. I appreciate the mentioning of Amy too, made the whole thing even sadder though (but that’s a good thing.) Was an amazing story to read and I strongly encourage you to write more! c: xx

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